After Biddy came to undress her, and Jane complained of imaginary ailments for a few minutes and sent her away again, she hid in her bed with the covers drawn up to her chin. This was clearly not going to be a position she could maintain for the rest of the evening. Jane knew that, logically. Yet she couldn’t seem to throw back the covers and pose in some come-hither way for Eli.
She felt utterly naked. Her linen shift was marginally less transparent than her soaked yellow gown had been (though only marginally, as it wasn’t a thick weave), but it was still one layer between her and the world. One layer between her and Eli. And underneath, it was her natural form, without anything to tuck or shape her into an hourglass silhouette.
Perhaps she should go put something else on.
As soon as the thought came to her, it was interrupted by a creak on the stairs. He was coming up. Should she put out the lamp, or leave it burning? She didn’t like that he should see her so clearly, but shedidwant to see him. On then.
Oh goodness, what was she doing?
The footsteps reached her door. He rapped softly, so softly that she wondered if she had imagined it, and then he came in.
He was still fully dressed in his evening attire; the only signs ofinformality were a few disheveled hairs Jane longed to smooth from his firm brow.
“You look like you’re still at the ball. I feel underdressed.”
As Eli shut the door behind him, he tugged on the end of the knot and turned his cravat back into an ordinary length of silk, pulling it free of his collar. “Better?”
His smile exuded warmth, but it was subdued. Like smoldering embers rather than a roaring fire.
“Somewhat.”
Her palms were clammy, and she tried to wipe them on the covers without it being obvious.
Eli slipped out of his coat and set it on her commode beside the tie. He approached her bedside and sat on the edge; very near her but not quite touching.
“Would you mind helping with the cuff links?” He held up a wrist, and Jane took it gently. She was close enough to watch his pulse flicker as she undid the little gold links.
“Am I to be your valet for the evening?” Her voice came out breathless. She wished she could stop her heart racing.
“If you like.”
Once she had both cuff links, she pressed them into Eli’s palm. He leaned over her to set them on the bedside table, his hair brushing Jane’s cheek, as if it were perfectly normal to be this close.
When he returned to a sitting position, Eli took a long moment to study her.
“You look nervous. Have you changed your mind?” He’d failed to keep the regret from his tone, but it was gentle. “If you don’t want this, tell me now.”
“I am nervous, but I haven’t changed my mind.”
“Maybe we should do something to help us relax then.” Eli slid a hand behind the base of her skull as he leaned in to kiss her. Hislips brushed over hers lightly at first, but it didn’t take long before he deepened the kiss, drinking her in. There was no one to interrupt them now. The servants were all downstairs, and most were asleep. None of their friends and family would be home before two or three in the morning, if this was a typical ball. They had hours.
Eli’s tongue slid inside her mouth, and she met it with her own. She’d never been kissed like this. Passionately and thoroughly. Even the other times, they’d always been rushed. Stealing a few bare minutes before someone came in. This was its own unique art.
It made her open up. Her mouth, of course, but also something deeper. Her most intimate parts ached for him. And deeper still. An aching in her heart to pull him closer than two bodies could ever be.
He broke away from her mouth to pay his attentions to her jaw. Her ear. His breath was hot as he whispered. “Say what you want and it’s yours, Jane.”
Oh, but it was hard to think when he did that.
“I’d rather you told me what you want,” she confessed.
“Why?” Eli drew back to look at her. “That isn’t what we talked about.”
“I know. It’s just I’m a bit shy to speak so…explicitly to you. Maybe I’ll warm up to the idea if you go first.”
Eli sat back on the bed and appeared to study her. “Perhaps I’m shy too. Or, not shy, exactly. I’m worried I’ll scare you off if I tell you what I’ve been thinking.”
That was promising. She remembered the rough edge to Eli’s voice when they talked about their picnic while overlooking the races on Tuesday. It had seemed to scrape away her restraint.
